


rose petals

by chickenhead



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Parenthood, just all around gooey cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenhead/pseuds/chickenhead
Summary: two ficlets.1) david grapples with his weight gain a few days before having his first child. (3k)2) patrick grapples with the implication that his child has an aversion for him. (4.9k)
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	1. blooming rose

**Author's Note:**

> suddenly became enamored with schitt's creek after spending two weeks watching nonstop. the episode where patrick hints at wanting a baby with david never left my mind, so i decided to write what that outcome could've looked like. david is intersex here. enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> david grapples with his weight gain a few days before having his first child.

For David, who is routinely apt to declining most unsavory (at least in his book,) propositions, procreating with Patrick appeared to be a swift and facile “No.”, that is, until he found himself pregnant after a month of violent nausea and dizzy spells, ultimately pushing them both to weigh out the outcome of the prolonged illness. David, flavored with a cocktail of nosocomephobia and a splash of adamancy, was inconvenienced by means of being drudged to the doctor for a prognosis. 

Initially, David was placed into a state of shock, his gaze dipped far, far beyond meeting with Patrick’s obviously concerned eyes— he’d murmured to the doctor to allow them a few minutes alone, and attempted to offer consolation and comfort with a safe embrace, however he found David to freeze under his touch, not rejecting it, simply..freezing. Quite an unforeseen sight, David sat, fingers neatly in his lap, found not toying with each other or his embellishments of gold rings that rested on them. Still. Lips pressed together without even a member of the alphabet escaping, not a noise rising up and out his throat, it would appear his blinking became sporadic, lashes fluttering at a millisecond pace. He’d clung to the quiet for a few days, with nothing but single head nods to Patrick as responses.

He needed time to think. After all, he detested children. Even when the idea of having one with his husband was brought up, he felt his lunch plotting on refunding up to the entry. He’d struggled with himself over his new state, weighing out the outcomes of something he had never yearned for, with Patrick at his side and in earshot, insistently expressed his acceptance of terminating the pregnancy if he so chose to do so. Oddly, David found the decision to be irrefutably arduous, in the sense of wanting to choose his sanity and wellbeing over everything, yet still not being able to bring himself to dismiss his husband’s wishes, even if he’d be the one carrying the child. At the point of him clearing his throat and raising his eyebrows, unsure but still firm in his decision, announcing he’d carry their child to term, Patrick received all the strength of the mightiest mountains and crashing of waves to pick David up (he’d snapped back into character and begged Patrick to put him down promptly), and vowed that he’d go to extremes to ensure David’s needs were met in every aspect, at his every beck and call. David replied with a bite to a cookie and a habitual eye roll, “I don’t doubt that.”

At first, David felt it was “on-brand” of him to keep his pregnancy a secret, what with how everyone in town is keen on passing out unsolicited opinions and advise, but with his eating habits combined with the close eye he always seems to be under, he was usurped of that opportunity. Not to mention when his parents flew in from California the same weekend Alexis flew in to accompany Twyla to a music festival in Elmdale, even after all possible attempts to conceal his bourgeoning belly, his attempts were futile, and his mother and sister squealed with bewilderment upon forcing him to turn to the side and relax (he’d been sucking in). Alexis, who is notorious for her lack of being able to hold water, became the town rumor super-spiller by proxy of Twyla, and that’s how word got out. 

Thankfully, the past nine months have been a breeze. If Patrick has anything to be grateful for, its that his wish for him and David has manifested peacefully without any sudden mood swings or nausea, mostly consisting of him having to fetch David whatever combination of usually a pastry and deli meat he’s craving at some odd hour of the night or morning. At month five, (at David’s refusal) they found out they’d be expecting a boy (who would not be named Freesia), and David began shopping at the point he realized he truly had a little human growing inside of him, perhaps it hadn’t dawned on him even after around five ultrasounds he’d been in perfect attendance for. 

For now, he’s not but a few days shy of his due date. Though even when he’s not pregnant he’d refuse to lift boxes, Patrick has nearly banned him from the store, fossilizing him to their home and allowing David to rack up delivery and clothes on his credit card to busy him. But today, David has decided to gawk at himself, after dropping his towel in front of the mirror after a shower. His mouth initially dropped as his eyes took the liberty of perceiving the inevitable changes that have come with his pregnancy. Without question, he’s aware of his heavy weight gain. Frankly, if he wasn’t reminded of it every day nowadays, he’d be concerned. His pursuits to leave the house even to grab groceries are deemed unsuccessful without his fellow townsfolk plastering their eyes on his stomach, or imploring him to confirm if he’s expecting multiples. Stevie at least means well when she pokes fun at him for his infatuation with food, nonetheless David feels inclined to hold his stomach protectively and complain that she’s failing on her duties to provide moral support. But today he just feels.. _enormous _.__

____

“Oh my _god_..” He allows a whisper to cascade from his disgusted lips when he pinches his sides vigorously. “And I can’t even put the blame on anyone but myself, that’s the sad part.” He lets a few disgruntled noises of protest to diffuse about his space, swallowing back swears from different pages of his vocabulary to satiate the quiet of the room when the Lauryn Hill track makes a quiet transition to the next. If it weren’t for his midsection, his cheeks have rounded out, nearly every time he laughs, his eyes seem to be overtaken by his cheeks, nearly masking them. Even his thighs have spread a bit, if he isn’t the definition of voluptuous, he’d be eager on encountering his competition. 

____

____

Disturbed, he decides on distracting his busied and alarmed mind with finding something to clothe his naked body with. His voice travels over Lauryn’s with a few snaps, rummaging through his drawers to pull out a simple cotton long sleeve, and once fitted over his body as if its hugging him, he tugs on a pair of briefs and makes his way back to the mirror. Once there, he lets his hands cradle his stomach and robs a puff of air to inhale. 

____

____

“What have I been feeding us? I can’t blame it on you, either..” He looks down at his stomach with a lazy rub to his side, “Well, for the sake of my defense, you _do_ make me crave some unimaginable things, but I guess I’d be remiss to place the blame for my iniquitous eating habits on my own unborn child.. But still, I’m bordering on enormous.” 

____

____

His mind travels to Patrick, who as of lately seems to have David’s gaze plastered all over him. Just that, David has been trying to detect any inklings of disgust on Patrick's face when he looks at him, or maybe sprinkles of annoyance. In quite the opposite, Patrick has been located crying, or staring outside bleakly with the corners of his mouth downturned in anxiety, reading baby books on the porch clad a highlighter as if he’s studying for finals, or tediously tinkering with things that don’t need further arrangement in their baby’s meticulously chic, gender-neutral room. He’s been on pins and needles with the imminence of the baby’s arrival; and with that in mind, one would believe David would be cognizant that perhaps Patrick has no mental capacity for thoughts of his temporary weight gain. 

____

____

“I’m surprised I don’t have that many stretch marks. Whew, thank you Palmer’s..” He trails off, the corners of his mouth downturned and tightened, “Why am I talking out loud? David, this is fine, this is fine… you’ll just, go on Jenny Craig or something after all of this, and the weight will just.. fall right off!” He assures himself with a fist swinging through the air as an attempt to convince himself. He then stops abruptly, eyes raising back to the mirror with the same disgusted flash of teeth. 

____

____

His feet are starting to give out, and this is a clear indicator and not to mention, perfect opportunity to go lay in the bed and pout, allowing the serenade from his speakers to lull his suddenly sullen disposition. Once he’s in a comfortable position, his hands lie over his stomach once again. Its a habit by now, he naturally gravitates his hands to it. Him embarking on this experience reluctantly, gives one the impression that David is disgusted by his pregnancy, and his child, for that matter. But being bullheaded in this instance rendered opposing results. Rather, he’s in love with his baby already. Perhaps being spoon-fed by Patrick or Stevie, or sometimes even Alexis on FaceTime, that his baby could be a lot like him, and how adorable it would be to have a little David following his every move and wanting to do everything he’s doing aided his acceptance of parenthood. Maybe David has cringed at the idea that his child could be anything like him outside of the looks department, but now he’s fully embraced the beauty of having his own child with the love of his life. The change of heart could also be the result of David’s epiphany that perhaps he could detest other people’s “tykes” but his own he’d love unconditionally, especially given he’ll be half of Patrick. 

____

____

“I’m just a mess today, right?! Like I know that weight gain comes with this, and I’ve been like.. rapidly gaining weight for months..” He drags out his last noun, nodding to himself with his eyebrows arched high on his forehead. “But I just feel like I’m this enormous tub of lard or something today..putting Jabba the Hut out of business.” He exhales, “Enough about me, how are you doing today?” All of this he’s directing to his stomach, and to his comfort, the baby gives a gentle kick almost as if a response. “Yeah? I know you’re probably irritated hearing me complain all the time, but maybe it’s.. better you get used to it? And feel free to complain too when you’re older, just not to me..” He pauses. “Let’s agree on that now, actually.” 

____

____

Nowadays, he can see the baby moving, and though it freaks him out nearly every time, in times where he’s stressed or like today for example, scrutinizing and sulky, it can be a cute little pick-me-up. Patrick is constantly captivated by their “little prince”, his little kicks and movements, the rolodex of nicknames for the baby already, the amount of Japanese stuffed animals he’s ordered for him, or just the way he talks when he’s talking to the baby. David wants to melt into a puddle, getting lost in how soft his voice goes— like silk to the touch, and he’s nothing but gentle when he places his hands on their baby’s temporary home. It drives David insane how careful Patrick’s been with him from the beginning of the pregnancy, and now that he’s in the terminal stage, it is as if he’s some gorgeous, tanned Grecian prince shacked up and pampered in his palace. He’s fiercely protective of David, but even moreso of the baby, splaying his hand over David’s belly when he’s nearby when talking to friends or customers. Staying on top of David with wearing attire that’ll keep him warm or cool during different seasons, ensuring that he's not eating all junk food, even if Patrick will admit that he’s an enabler in that sense. 

____

____

Speaking of the doting daddy-to-be, David’s lost track of time since he’s been distracted with insecurity in his dimly lit, wood-scented candle redolcenced room, and the jangle of Patrick’s keys echo from downstairs up into their bedroom. In attempt to fool Patrick into thinking he’s just been relaxing for the past hour, he whips out his phone and begins nodding his head and lazily mouthing the lyrics to the song playing in the background. Fingers crossed. 

____

____

“Hey..” Patrick grins upon entry. Lately he’s been allowing his stubble and hair to grow in a bit, and David swears, he’s 10, if not a full 100 times sexier than before, inevitably leaving David to rub one out when he leaves the house after getting a goodbye kiss. But for now, he’s distracted with the plastic bag he’s clutching in his left hand. 

____

____

“Hey, whatcha got there?” 

____

____

“Oh, well, there’s this new Thai place that opened in Elmdale, I thought I’d swing by and grab us some dinner. Unless you cooked…”

____

____

“Oh, no, don’t be silly!” David chuckles condescendingly, “No, no, no..” He makes grabby hands at his husband, the rich aroma of basil and lemongrass having slammed against his petite nostrils thanks to the act of diffusion. Patrick stretches a sly smirk across his cheeks, the tug of the corners of his mouth growing as David continues to coax him to come closer and hand him the food. He tears back the comforter and swiftly places a towel down from the hamper to ensure nothing gets on the sheets, once completed, David wastes no time to unpack the contents of the bag, and once he’s grabbed ahold of the plasticware and chopsticks, he’s going to town on all _three_ containers.

____

____

Patrick gives a chuckle with his eyebrows knitted and the same stupidly adorable smirk on his lips. “By all means, eat my food too..” But David’s tuning him out, moaning into his food and squeezing his eyes shut, tapping his fork in the air to the rhythm of the song. 

____

____

“Fuck, I don’t remember the last time I had Thai food. But there was this one time Alexis was dating some Thai business mogul— I’m not even sure what made him think he could give himself such an accolade of a nickname—“ He laughs sarcastically, the corners of his eyes tight, “..and she got kidnapped by one of his clients in Bangkok..so after that,”

____

____

“Let me guess, you guys got to-die-for Thai food from some elderly couple on the side of the road somewhere in the middle of nowhere.” Patrick looks up from a failed attempt at grabbing ahold a noodle with his chopsticks, only to witness his very heavily pregnant husband with his mouth gaping open and narrowed eyes, all tell-tale signs of suspicion. “David, you’ve told me this story at least..five or six times since I’ve known you.”

____

____

David’s voice goes soft and breathy, “ _Anyway_ , this is a pretty close second, and I’ve only just _started_ chowing down.” He confides, “How were things today? Anything bewitching?” He opens his eyes wider for dramatic effect, searching once again for Patrick’s gaze to take on one of disgust.

____

____

“Nope, just the usual. Couple soap sales, couple of cheeses, couple of cleaners. Nothing major. I’m guessing you watched _Scandal_? I know you started from season one again.” 

____

____

David fights his words, trying to configure some bullshit list of verbs he’s taken action on today. “Mmm, nothing but looking at charcuterie boards and those ASMR videos today…they never help. Showered, nothing eventful, to say the least..” His jaw tilts up before he locks his eyes on Patrick once again. 

____

____

“Charcuterie boards? For what? Are you planning to order some?”

____

____

“No. Well, I mean, I suppose we could team up with some of our vendors and offer them at the store but.. not so sure they’d pique the interest of the locals, though.” 

____

____

Patrick shrugs, “You never know. Is this your first meal of the day, then? Just drooling over dried meats and cheeses before your Prince Charming would possibly arrive with dinner?” 

____

____

“Well, no.. I’ve eaten today..” David answers a bit more somberly than he should’ve, considering he’s attempting to give his best Streep-worthy performance of _I’m Not Insecure, I’m Chilling. Directed by David Brewer._

____

____

“Is that a bad thing?” Patrick’s face transitions into an amalgam of concern and playfulness while he inquires. He watches David place the plastic container beside himself and the lid back on. 

____

____

“You tell me.”

____

____

“What do you mean? Why would it be a bad thing that you’ve eaten today? If you already ate before I got here, no big deal, you just have leftovers.” He assures.

____

____

“Patrick.”

____

____

“ _David_.”

____

____

Said David lets his chin sink into his neck, fingers wringing together while he orchestrates how he’s going to deliver this to his husband without sounding vapid. “What.. do you think about me..lately?”

____

____

“Is this a trick question? _What do I think about yo_ u _lately_?” Patrick rests his replacement of his chopsticks, meaning his fork, in the container and folds his arms. 

____

____

“I mean, with this..” He closes his eyes when he gestures to his giant midsection, then once a few seconds have passed, allows one eye open to peek. Patrick just stares at him, meeting his one opened eye abruptly. 

____

____

“I still don’t—“

____

____

“Okay! Let’s just forget it! I’m going to grab a water, because that pepper is ravaging through my throat with intense heat right now!” David giggles awkwardly, his hands frantically talking while he swings his leg to the bedside. Before he can hoist himself up, Patrick grabs ahold of his arm, sending the hairs on his arm to stand, as he's intimidated by his lack of response.

____

____

“No, just.. wait, what are you talking about, David? The baby? What do you mean,' _this_ ’?”

____

____

“Okay.” David settles back into the nest of pillows behind himself. “Today I realized.. I'm huge! I mean, I've known, I can see myself, just didn't realize I was _this _big. And I don’t want you to suddenly— though I’m gorgeous, we know this—find me unattractive because of all this weight I’ve put on. I know I eat a family size worth of food, but your son’s naturally always hungry, and unfortunately, so am I..” His jaw lifts again in habit, lips spread downwards while he waits for his husband’s response. But Patrick merely gapes, taken aback by the nearly senseless conclusion David’s jumped to.__

____

_____ _

“What makes you think I’d care about that?”

_____ _

_____ _

“I don’t know!” David’s responds, “I figured if I felt like a Goodyear blimp, and everyone else asks me if we’re having more than one baby, you’d likely feel the same way! Like, this bed creaks when I lay in it.. you’ve had to of noticed..” 

_____ _

_____ _

Patrick flushes a shade of carnation, starting from his neck, and David can’t decipher if he’s irate or flustered. He begins to open his mouth, at that point David flinches, but retreats back when Patrick shakes his head. “Why do you torture yourself all the time? If anything, I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you. David, you’re carrying my baby. Why would I care about how much you weigh, or what you eat, or if the bed creaks?” 

_____ _

_____ _

“I don’t know, I just—“

_____ _

_____ _

“I guess I’m the one who should feel bad. I’ve always wanted a baby, and here you are, getting down on yourself because you’ve gaining pregnancy weight.” Leave it to Patrick to take on the burdens of David and personalize them.

_____ _

_____ _

“Oh, I’ve definitely gained pregnancy weight, and then just plain gluttony weight.. _and then some.._ ”

_____ _

____

“David, why does it even matter? By this weekend, he’ll be out, and you won’t have to worry about this again.” Patrick pauses, “But.. I guess I understand the feeling of insecurity... Still, I promise, you’ve never been more beautiful..what do I have to do to prove it to you?”

____

____

“It’s not you! And it’s not your problem either!” David pushes himself off the bed and slowly ambles to the mirror. “This is just a mess!” He turns his head to meet Patrick’s eyes from across the room, any consolation making attempts into his brain have been bounced and vanished. “Why can’t I be Kate Middleton, carrying a child with nearly no detection? I’m like, fucking Jessica Simpson!” He throws his hands up in frustration, possibly welcoming his blood pressure to rise.

____

____

“David, relax..” Patrick arrives promptly behind the taller man, arms wrapping themselves over the apex of his belly. “Just relax..you look incredible. I get asked how you’re doing all the time by some of our regulars, and they all say how much you were glowing the last time they saw you..”

____

____

“It’s most likely my ten step—“

____

____

“Yeah, don’t think it’s the ten step skin regimen, but it probably helps, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

____

____

David melts into Patrick’s embrace, as much as he can for someone who’s taller than him. “Say more nice things about me..like, appearance-wise.”

____

____

“Um, alright.. well, for starters, you have the most perfect face I’ve ever seen.. equal parts handsome and.. pretty.”

____

____

“You sounded unsure when you said that..”

____

____

“You know I wasn’t unsure, David.” Patrick tilts his head and throws David an unmoved expression via the mirror’s reflection. “Well, anyway..your smile.. its uneven, and it’s the cutest thing ever..one of the corners go up, the other goes down, it’s second to none.”

____

____

“Mmm..”

____

____

“And your eyes..they’re almond shaped, and I love how your eyelashes are kind of wispy at the corners.. and if you look at them in the light, they’re like a.. like a burnt honey color.” He moves his hands to hold David’s stomach, “And I want very badly for our son to have them.. I hope he seriously has your eyes. I think they’re truly what makes your face."

____

____

“Mmmm…” David turns toward Patrick with a syrupy-sweet gaze of infatuation, proceeding to wrap his arms around his neck. He sidles up closer to him, but bumps him with his stomach.

____

____

He cringes, “See how this monstrosity of a belly just ruined this moment for us?!” He exclaims with a hand plastered to his forehead. He’s hushed with a finger to his lips, melting his frosty expression back into the impassioned, honeyed look of love. Patrick pulls David to him as closely as they both can manage, but not before dropping a kiss to David’s belly, then one to his lips. 

____

____

“You look incredible. And I really don’t care how much weight you’ve gained, it’s just weight, I’m always going to be madly in love with you. And you’re always going to be absolutely beautiful, kay?”

____

____

David shakes his head with a smirk, “Kay..” He then possesses Patricks head and crashes his lips to his own, both of them fall into each other, the warmth spreading from their toes to their lips, locked tightly against each other. David recalls at this moment why he married Patrick, he’s seldom futile in his attempts to make him feel like the luckiest man on Earth.

____


	2. baby rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> patrick grapples with the implication that his child has an aversion for him.

_“I wanna have a like, a little baby with you.. and we could just love it and hold it and bounce it..you would be such a good dad.. _”__

Devin Sage Brewer entered the world just a few days ago, bestowed the ability to gather anyone around his tiny finger. Born eight pounds (David called it, insisting there’d be no way all the weight he was carrying around could be his own), with giant, almond shaped eyes, and a full head of light brown, wavy hair. He’s a beautiful baby, in no way shape or form, possessing the appearance of an old man, much like his peer newborns. With David being one of his parents, he’d naturally be blessed with a pair of perfect eyebrows, even fresh out of gestation. His eyes are beautifully christened with gentle, wispy lashes. He truly is a little David, with the proportions of Patrick, so he’s a little doll face.

Perhaps the most unexpected event of all of this is David’s adamance of letting go of the baby. When the baby was placed in his arms, he’d hesitated, but bawled his eyes out all but twenty seconds later. Not only is his child wildly adorable, but the fact that he is his, and he’d never imagined getting this far with anyone, or even willingly going through with pregnancy, and for the final result being a gentle cherub of a child, and a peaceful and stressless cesarean, is an unexpected happy ending.

Patrick had cried harder than he ever had in his life, he’d later cause himself a migraine, but he was entirely overcome with the sight of his son. Never mind the way he appeared, washed the color of crimson as tears poured out of him like an emotional waterfall. David had pat his back, sweet nothings in his ear and neck kisses, and broke Patrick when he’d told Devin, “this is your daddy, he’s simply the best.”. Patrick wasted no time with serenading his little one, as he performed to him by the window, wrapping him in melody, likened to the blanket wrapped around him.

David's parents had flown into town, Moira didn’t waste a single second, nearly wrestling her son into handing her first grandchild to her. Johnny fawned over how much Devin looked like David as a baby, in which David raised his eyebrows and interrogated him on how he’d remember if he never took care of him as a baby. Patrick’s parents followed suit, Marcy passionately thanked David for gifting her a grandchild, Clint attempted to stand his ground and keep his composure, but the baby grabbed his nose and he fell to pieces. Alexis showed up on the last day they were staying at the hospital, in tow with bears, balloons, and a few gifts that appeared to be more costly than they’d all imagine she could afford. The kicker being that she too cried, but when David laughed, she narrowed her eyes and suggested that he was just mad because the baby’s getting all the attention, and he’s going to be prettier than him. In which they dipped into banter about David’s most likely future lackluster attempts at childcare, and a quiz on bottle warming— apparently she’d been a responsible aunt and learned a thing or two in her absence.

It took around four days before David was discharged from the hospital, and he’d complained how desperately he needed a blunt following being surrounded by overbearing nurses who practically did nothing but coo over his cute baby and failed to check if they’d had less cloying breakfast entrees, and he swore he'd tasted metallic when the salisbury steak was served to him on a Sunday night. Needless to say, when he’d arrived home and was treated by Marcy to a home cooked meal, he’d been in bliss.

The grandparents and auntie made their departure yesterday, and now it’s finally just the three of them, the birth of the next eighteen years for the couple. Perhaps a bit intimidating.

“Gooooood morning~” David chirps, strutting in the kitchen with the baby’s head on his shoulder and a pair of black slippers adorning his feet. For anyone who is aware of his former notion on infants, watching him tote a small baby around, let alone not let him go, is undoubtedly a left-field sight.

“Hey..” Patrick leans up to press a gentle kiss to the taller man’s lips once he’s seated, and another one to his son’s head directly succeeding. “And how are you today?” He takes ahold of the baby’s little fingers, and flashes a blinding grin at him.

“Surprisingly..really good?! I mean these painkillers are _very _dull..__ granted, woke up a little woozy, but!” David laughs to himself, reaching for the jellied toast on Patrick’s plate to steal a bite.

“That’s great! But I think I was talking to Devin,” Patrick corrects, failing to tear his eyes from his son’s adorably squishable face. “One thing about mommy, he’s a tad bit on the conceited side, he tends to think—“

“Okay! Just. gonna. stop. you. right. there. Um! _Mommy_ doesn’t know when ___daddy’s___ talking to baby _ _ _ _,____ because _____daddy’s_____ always looking in ______mommy’s______ direction!” David complains through chewing and widened eyes, sizing his husband up. “Anyway, I’m the one you should be asking first, I just had some doctor open my stomach up and have been in excruciating pain ever since..”

“I was gonna ask you! I’m sorry if I just want him to warm up to me.”

“Sorry, warm up to you?” David takes a swig of orange juice from a perspiring glass next to the salt and pepper shakers.

“Yeah. Just, it seems like he’s pretty attached to you. When I hold him, it always seems like he’s more engrossed with finding out your whereabouts so you can hold him again.”

David on any other occasion would take this as an opportunity to gloat and stand proud, puffing his chest out about how naturally and obviously he’d succeed in the current endeavor, but not right now. “Well.. to that I’d just say.. he spent nine months chilling in my stomach, kind of gross to say out loud, but, he’s used to me. Don't babies recognize voices? He most likely just remembers me.”

“Yeah, they do.. that’s why I thought he’d remember me too…”

David can tell this is kind of upsetting Patrick, and decides on passing him the baby while he grabs a fruit cup. “He likes you, he was just telling me how excited he was to see you a few minutes ago.. relax!” He announces from the fridge with a flick of his wrist.

Patrick’s eyes fall to his son, who busies himself with grabbing his cotton shirt, beautiful eyes peering at him in curiosity. “Hey…” He pulls a melancholic smile across his cheeks. “You didn’t cry yesterday, I guess you’re in a good mood, that’s good..” His voice washes over the baby like a blanket of velvet, coaxing the baby to cuddle into his chest more. Patrick doesn’t want this moment to end as he gingerly strokes the baby’s brown head of hair. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, aren’t you?”

“You’re so cute with him. If he’s anything like me, he’s probably subconsciously partial to you for that.” The taller man eases himself back into the chair, “Maybe he likes me because I smell good or something.”

“And I don’t?”

“I’m just trying to come up with reasons why he’d be biased to me other than him knowing my voice better than anyone else's..” He pauses, “But he looks.. content with you!” He reaches over to poke the baby’s nose tenderly, and when he does so, the baby decides to latch his gaze on David, who in return gifts him a face-breaking grin, mustering a soft “Hiii, angel face!”.

“This is crazy to me, considering you hate kids..unless you had a change of heart.”

“Oh, _I absolutely do_ hate kids, but he’s mine..” David protests with a swift glance to his husband, then back to his wide-eyed doll faced babe. “Be nice to your dad, ‘kay?” He pauses, "You know what?” He rips his eyes from Devin, “Maybe you two should spend the day together, without me around.”

“David, it’s not like I’m incapable of caring for my own child. It really just boils down to him being partial to you. But somehow I feel like you’re the cause of that.”

“Mmm,” David tightens his face, “Um, I’m yet to see you warm up a bottle.”

“Well when my mom offered to warm them for us…” Patrick trails off tentatively, “Well, you haven’t changed his diaper! If I’m honest, neither of us have done anything for him yet outside of putting him to sleep. My parents are pretty hands-on..”

“And I plan on _never_ changing his diaper if I can avoid it..”

Patrick grits his teeth, unflattering expression smeared across his face. The adrenaline coursing through his veins the entire nine months leading up to Devin’s birth was tenacious, he wonders why all that excitement was and still coursed through him only for his son to be partial to David. In his mind, he imagined David flinching and going “what the fuck is it doing?” half the time, but instead, Devin clings to David, and David takes a million pictures of him or records him (or both) every few hours.

“Alright. It’ll just be me and him today. You go do whatever you do.”

“Without a doubt, I’ll be catching up on my _Real Housewives _that I didn’t get to catch last weekend.”__

So breakfast finishes after around twenty-five minutes, and David decides to hop in the shower before embarking on a day of reality TV and healing up. Still positioned in the kitchen, Patrick’s holding Devin to himself, draped with the concern of warming up a bottle. He knows to test it, he knows how to heat it up, he can recall the sessions of trial the past few months, where he’d made the mistake of putting the actual bottle in a scorching hot pot of water, permeating the house with the redolence of burnt plastic for at least three days. After that, he’d learned you didn’t need to warm the bottle, but perhaps he wanted to give his child the benefit of a warm meal. After all, David took no time to learn how to heat a bottle and insisted it should be nothing but pouring the formula in some hot water and "letting it steep”, so he knows he has to master the art of bottle warming for the both of them.

Devin isn’t fussing, just waiting patiently for Patrick to fix him up a bottle, and he probably has no preference of the temperature, he’s just hungry. Once Patrick has tested the milk’s temperature on his wrist, he swirls the bottle and makes his way to the living room. He places Devin into a swaddle and teases his lips with the nipple of the bottle and watches him suck away. He sighs to himself, satisfied that the bottle warmer is on its way, even if it didn’t come right on time from being on backorder, because he’s sure of it, David’s not going to know what the fuck he’s doing once Patrick’s back at the store.

“I just don’t understand how you’re _this_ adorable. I mean, when I was born, I was hideous, I’m pretty sure most babies look like old men.. how are you already so adorable?” His voice nestles over the baby, stroking his chubby cheek. “I mean, I knew you were going to be cute, but you’re unfairly cute. I don’t think I can say no to you.”

Devin meets his gaze for a moment, his little legs kicking. Patrick chuckles, leaning back into the cushion. “It’s so funny finally being able to see you do that, you used to kick up a storm when you were inside your mommy… he’d always complain about how much it hurt, but I know you were just trying to get out attention, don’t worry..” He assures with a voice as comforting as honey. Too wrapped up in his enamoration for the little being in his arms, Patrick doesn’t realize that within only a few minutes, Devin’s dusted off his entire bottle.

“I see what your mom meant by you having an appetite.. but at least you’re healthy, right? You’re really his mini-me, he loves food, too.” He switches the baby to his shoulder after placing the bottle by his thigh and a cloth over his back, and gently begins to burp him with a few pats to his back. Once finished, he switches him back to his arms and leans forward to place a kiss over his little forehead. He watches those large, amber, almond eyes begin to lid, peaced out and dazed from the warm milk that’s casted repose into his little body. Careful, Patrick makes his way up the stairs to Devin’s room and sets him in his crib. He tucks a tiny Japanese stuffed animal to the baby’s side and bids him sweet dreams.

In the meantime, he pokes his head into the door just in time for David to mute the TV while commercials play, hair freshly washed and his phone cradled in his right hand. “Hey.. how’s it going?”

“Oh, just put him down for a nap.. he’s so tuckered out after eating.. and he finished the bottle..scarily fast.”

“I know.” David nods with a smirk. “For someone that little, his appetite is that of a grown man's.. like Paul Bunyan. Like, baby Paul Bunyan..” David trails off with a giggle. “Why do you think I was so big? He was like a little me inside of me, who already eats a lot.”

Patrick’s lips work into a smirk, “Well, maybe he’ll be tall or something. Lucky me, another you, bossing me around and using his height to his advantage, and from the looks of it, he’ll always side with you.”

“As he should!” David pipes back with a grin, “Or, just the opposite, some food for thought, he could be mini-me but be everything like you personality-wise. I mean, he’s only a week old and he doesn’t scream and demand anything, he’s so quiet.. it’s odd, maybe he’s like you after all.”

“Soon he could, you know. When he starts talking and you’ve promised him Givinchy for his fruit snacks.”

“That’s _Givenchy _, a__ nd perhaps he’ll be a Brooks Brothers kind of child, you never know. Like you, roaming around in tucked in button-ups and slacks.. dockers shoes.. we really just have to wait it out!” David jokingly hypothesizes, “Nonetheless, I’m proud of you for putting him to sleep and feeding him. You have officially started Parenting 101!”

Patrick squeezes a tight grin, assured that if it truly is that easy, maybe it won’t be that hard after all. “Yeah, I mean—“

An ear-numbing scream pierces through his verbiage abruptly, and David tucks his lips up into a smirk, Patrick’s been giving his tens a bit prematurely, what with the screaming babe next door. Amused, he pauses the show and follows Patrick into the dimly-lit bedroom on stand-by while his small beau doesn’t let a moment go by before he assists him out of his crib and into his arms.

“What’s the matter? Are you really hungry again?” He interrogates between the whining. The baby’s eyes are shut tight, and he claws at his father’s face furiously. Patrick takes the little hand that grabs his nose and holds it, bouncing on his knees to lull the baby back into calm. “Shh, it’s alright, daddy’s here now..”He voices with a veil of gentleness to the child’s ears. Frustrated, he walks toward David, who raises his brows and throws his hands up, inching away the closer he gets.

“I’m not apart of this, remember?” He chuckles, but not for long, because in an instant, the baby quiets his whining. He looks up from the giant tears in his eyes, attempting to locate where the voice is coming from. His eyes are already huge, but they widen even more, frantically darting around. Patrick’s jaw slacks, and he surrenders to handing the child to David, who gives in and wipes the tears away with his gold ringed fingers.

“I’m only going to hold you for a sec, then you’re going right back to your dad.” He pads over to the modern chair parked in the corner of the room beside the changing table. “You have to be nice to him, like, you _have to _..__ he wanted you so bad, you’re like his dream.. I’m sure you have nice dreams considering you’re yet to have a care in the world, what if your dreams didn’t like you?”

“David.. he’s just a baby..”

“No, but! He’s so mean to you! I might even go as far as to say my voice is a bit cloying, yours is at least on the relaxing side!” He defends himself against Patrick’s wishes, “Imagine getting excited when you hear my voice.”

“I do.”

David wants to smirk, but for now, he’s trying to convey his wishes to his son, who doesn’t comprehend anything he’s saying whatsoever. Hopefully, what he’s saying works subconsciously or subliminally, at least. “At least try to enjoy your dad. I know he doesn’t possess a Rolodex of amusing interests, nothing either of us would find diverting in the least, but. He’s got a heart of gold and he loves you so much, probably more than me.”

“Be fair, David. I love you both the same.”

David rolls his eyes and beckons for Patrick to take the baby back, and when he does, he starts his screaming again, prompting Patrick to let out a pained groan, and David to whisper “fuck!”.

“It’s fine..” Patrick’s voice draws out in defeat, he brings Devin to his shoulder and begins smoothing gentle circles into his back, humming as he pummels through his defeat with a blank expression, eyebrows knitted while David stares at him in complete bewilderment.

“How’s he still pissed off even after I calmed him down?”

“I don’t know.. let’s see..” Patrick places a hand over the baby’s forehead, nothing. No fever. He’s just eaten, he can’t be sleepy if he refused to nap. He raises the baby’s butt to himself and nods after his eyes flutter wide. “Ooookay, I know why.” He doesn’t hesitate to walk himself next to David, muttering an “excuse me” while he places the baby on the changing table, then removes his heather grey pajama pants and then his diaper. Overcome by the smell, David decides on removing himself from the premises and retreats back to his bedroom in time for a confessional on the TV.

Devin’s still whining, but now he’s just staring at his father while he sniffles. He’s such a pouty little thing. Neither of his parents are sure where he got his plush lips from, but they’re adorable, especially right now, when he’s fussing and frustrated with his hygiene. Patrick removes the diaper and cleans him up, then dusts him off with powder, grabs a diaper from one of the drawers and places it on him. Finally, he sanitizes his hands and picks Devin back up and settles them both in the chair David was sitting in.

He begins to sing the baby a Norah Jones song that he’s always adored, his voice wraps around the baby, soothing him into tangible warmth with his arms wrapped around him and his voice serenading. Once again, the baby’s eyes fall shut, adorably crossing while the sandman works his magic. This time, he leaves a kiss on the baby’s head, the sweet smell of strawberry baby shampoo throughout his auburn strands caressing his nose.

With a hope and a prayer, Patrick escapes. He’s starved for something to reward himself after battling with human waste and crying, and decides on preparing lunch. After he’s pulled the ingredients out, his mind travels to what it will be like in the forthcoming. What will Devin be like? Will he even care about how he dresses? What music will he enjoy? He imagines propping a little boy up on the counter at the apothecary and feeding him all the cheese and artisanal treats they offer, allowing him to test. He can foresee David using Devin as a persuasion for customers to buy, how could they say no to a child (even though he could)? Perhaps taking him to grab something at the cafe to retreat from _actually_ doing any work. Maybe he’ll have an eye for fashion too, or maybe he’ll want to know the inner-workings of a business, like him. He’ll be thoroughly entertained by his aunt’s stories about her escapades with princes, and his mom’s constant opinions about..everything, really.

After lunch in the bedroom, he checks on Devin, he’s still sleep, his lips parted and lashes fluttering. He wonders what he did to receive such an angelic baby. At around 3, he wakes him up to feed him another bottle with no issue, and he falls back asleep right after.

At around six, he prepares dinner. In the middle of battling with a full stove of pans and pots, and his carrots charring on the back burner, he hears Devin crying upstairs. He turns off the gas and heads up to his room, but he isn’t there. Instead, he follows the whining and finds that he’s being held by David, who is having his shirt clawed at with a helpless, alarmed expression on his face.

“Help..” He cringes, bottom row of teeth on full display while he pats the baby’s back in uneven beat. Patrick’s eyes take a trip around their surroundings, looks like David was feeding him, and there’s an empty bottle on the bed stand.

“What happened?” Patrick’s eyebrows knit, a smug smile on his face, its is sort of adorable to see David panic about something like this. David’s voice is soft, muttering “just relax” and “quit grabbing my shirt, I don’t do that to yours!” to the screaming child. “I don’t know,” He removes a tiny hand from grabbing his cheek angrily, “One minute I was feeding him dinner, and now he’s pissed off at me! I guess I didn’t do it right or something, this baby shit is seriously going disastrous!”

“Huh..” Patrick settles on the bed next to his husband and child. “Walk me through what you did.”

“Nothing, my timer went off, so I knew it had been three hours, so I took him out his crib and grabbed one of the bottles you left in here before you went back downstairs, then I fed it to him, and he immediately started crying! I thought you said he drank the milk up in record time!?”

“Let me see the bottle.” He motions for it, then David passes it over and the next dialogue begins with an “Ahhh…”

“Ahh what? Ahh this is driving me nuts? Ahh David doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing?!”

“Relax. Now you’re fussing just like him. The issue is that I brought it up here when it was still warm, I thought you were gonna feed it to him right away. It’s not warm anymore, I don’t think he wanted a milkshake.”

David’s expression deadpans. “So what now?”

“I’ll go get him a warm one, you just keep him company..” Patrick walks off and disappears back downstairs.

“Well don’t rush, its not like I have a very small baby trying to rip my perfectly sculpted nose, done by a board certified surgeon, off!” David complains from upstairs, interrupting Devin’s roars for cries.

When he returns, he takes Devin from David, who still whines. “Shh, I know.. mommy doesn’t know what he’s doing, huh?” Patrick slips between the irritated screams. He winks at an offended David, who looks to be catching his breath from having to wrestle with a newborn. He’s got quite the grip already.

First, he flicks the bottle at David’s wrist. He jumps, knitting his perfect eyebrows at him in perplexity.

“ _This_ is his preferred temperature. Don’t think that cold milk is going to suffice. He’s like you, it has to be the perfect temperature, or he’ll have a conniption.” He proceeds to put the nipple in Devin's mouth, watching him imbibe hungrily, locking eyes with his father in content. David draws out a long “hmm?”, observing from the peanut gallery. His hand clutches Patrick’s shoulder as he watches over. He picks at his thumb with his teeth, as if he’s trying to study how Patrick’s method managed to work.

“I think he’s just picky.” David rules out after the baby’s been fed and burped. Patrick’s smiling, as if his burdens have been washed away with the validation that his son appreciates his method of feeding him over David’s, which, in his defense, he’s only really made one bottle in his entire life.

“Oh yeah? So he’s picky because you didn’t know typically new babies prefer warm milk? Hmm, seems like a David problem, not a Devin problem.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“I dunno, you could’ve read up on stuff before he came..” Patrick cranes his head to take in the perpetually gorgeous David, who perpetually complains.

“ _You_ didn’t even read up the way you were supposed to! What you fix three bottles and now you’r _ _e Mufasa!?”__

“Mufasa?”

“Like, a good dad to Simba.” David huffs.

“And that’s the best parallel you could think of..”

“You get what I mean! I don’t know, you know how hard it was for me to even be comfortable with having a baby, I was busying myself with distractions half the time, I wasn’t on What to Expect dot com or whatever the fuck that website’s called..” David admits with a hand smoothing through his hair. “I have a lot to learn still, I mean.. I didn’t even think babies cared about temperature.”

“They’re little humans, David.”

“I know! I know he is..” The taller pokes Devin’s nose with a gentle tap from his index. “I have a lot to learn about you, I just hope I don’t go crazy..”

Patrick places Devin between them on the bed, and David takes one of the tiny hands and brings it to his lips. He’s truly in love with him, even if his nerves are shot at just the mere thought of parenthood. He’s perfect in every way, and he too, can’t wait to see what he'll be like in the years to come.

“It’s a process, but we’ll make it. We’re a team.” Patrick nods. Devin’s eyes go between them both. He makes a few little noises, and sneezes, gifted “bless you”s by the smitten parents. Patrick adorns a hand to the little tummy as an attempt to warm him up. He lowers himself to give it a kiss, not aware that David’s got this stupidly in love grin tucked into his still-chubby cheeks.

“Again, you’re so cute with him, I don’t know why you’d ever think he doesn’t like you. He doesn’t know what he likes at all yet, besides warm milk, and that won’t last forever..”

“Insecure Patrick, just an old friend that came for a visit. But even _you_ aren’t perfect with him, he gets mad at you too..I was being too hard on myself. For now, he’s probably comforted by your voice, and he likes the way I make his milk. Small gestures for us, but they’re big things for him, and we all have an advantage that way.”

“Aw, look at you! Finding the silver lining..” David leans in to bestow a pretty kiss to Patrick’s lips. They chase each other’s lips for a moment, only to be heckled by whining coming from their doll-faced baby laying between them. They part lips, smirk at each other, and look down at him pouting at them clad a whine.

“Devin, if it wasn’t for this, you would not even _be here _, pumpkin.”__

“David!”

“What!?”

Patrick falls back into the pillows, propping his head on his hand and rests his free hand on the baby’s head, stroking his hair, then his cheek, then back to his tummy. David’s still holding the little hand, “He’s so beautiful, I don’t think that’s fair. He’s prettier than me, and I’m three decades older than him.”

“He got it from you, of course its fair. He didn’t just get his looks from thin air, you gave them to him.”

“Hmm..” David shrugs, switching his position to be identical to Patrick’s. “I guess..” His bright eyes meet Patrick’s serene, round ones, as if he’s conveying the message that he loves him optically. The dimness of the light washes over them perfectly, highlighting how beautiful they both are in their own unique ways. David sneaks glances at their child every once in a while, overcome with the thought that this little human in actuality, was made from their love. He’s so whole, and he knows Patrick is too. That Patrick has cried about this, that he doesn’t think he deserves David, and he didn’t think he deserved the little family they’d be expecting either. Yet, here they are.

“I think he loves us both. He appreciates your gestures like me, and he loves being around me like you. He’s so perfectly the both of us in that regard. I say we leave it there, hm?” David assures, just in case Patrick’s worry is still pestering him persistently, a very decorated hand coming to the back of his neck. They lean in for another kiss, and this time, with a glow radiating from the both of them, they somehow manage to kiss their little one’s cheeks in sync, without prior intention.

Soon, Devin’s in dreamland, holding _both_ of their hands with a little smile on his little lips.


End file.
